


Tick Tock

by catwithasmile



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bartender!Castiel, Dean Winchester - Freeform, Detective!Dean Winchester, F/M, Lucifer - Freeform, M/M, Missouri - Freeform, Murder, Sam Winchester - Freeform, Serial Killers, Supernatural AU: Not Hunters, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-15
Updated: 2013-07-15
Packaged: 2017-12-20 07:27:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/884590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catwithasmile/pseuds/catwithasmile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Detective Dean Winchester has been flown into a small town in Missouri to investigate a string of serial murders committed by the infamous Lucifer who has been evading police since the 90's. During his investigation he meets a charming bartender during a night off who becomes suspicious as the days pass by. As they get closer to catching their killer a young girl is kidnapped. The clock starts ticking and it's up to Dean Winchester to find the girl before it's too late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tick Tock

There was nothing like a swift punch in the throat to start one’s day off.

Detective Dean Winchester had those thoughts ringing through his skull as he gasped for air, his back feeling hot and pained as he lay on the hard concrete of an abandoned house he’d been sent to investigate as a lead.

His phone chirped in his pocket as he tried to push away the pain. The worn leather of his jacket vibrated around the device a few times before he could answer it. “Winchester,” he spoke into the receiver, voice hoarse and scratchy.

“Detective? This is Officer Mayorsby. Y’okay, sir? Yer soundin’ a little… not good.”

“Other than the fact that I feel like I just got clotheslined by a rhinoceros, I feel absolutely peachy, Officer.”

The woman on the other end of the line spoke to someone next to her, answering an unheard question with a muffled ‘it’s in the file’ before returning to her phone call. “Well I’ll be, sir. I’m guessin’ ya found the perp then?” Her southern twang still made him smile a bit.

“Yeah, this location was definitely his hideout- it’s giving me the creeps, too. Send me crime scene geeks. We’re going to need to sweep the entire place and if we have to break it down to just bare nails, so be it.” He clicked his phone off and sat up with a groan. Throat sore and slightly swollen, and back aching, he climbed slowly to his feet and dusted off his jacket. “Alright let’s see what kind of shit you left behind, Lucy…”

It took approximately fifteen minutes for the squad cars and crime scene investigators to show up, their sirens wailing unnecessarily. During that time Dean had surveyed everything he could without touching, finding a few beer bottles, some leftover food and some cigarette butts. While none of this interested him in the least as the DNA could belong to any squatter that passed through here, there was one thing that caught his attention. There was a locked door in what looked to be the remnants of a kitchen. A locked door in a place where the only residents were homeless junkies and a recently departed suspect? There was something behind it that was definitely of interest, but following protocol, he waited for the geeks to get set up and start their sweep.

“Detective. How ya’ feelin’, sir?” The sheriff of Hazelwood, Missouri, the snake that he was, had finally lifted his head from his computer long enough to actually leave the office.

“A little worse for wear, but nothing I can’t handle. He got the jump on me; pretty sure he knew I was coming. He didn’t fit the profile completely, which is why I’m not sure if it’s really him, other than the size and the mannerisms he had.”

The sheriff stroked his chin a few times with the back of his fingers. “We’ll have Tanya go back over the profile with you when we get back to the station.”

“Sir, I don’t mean to impose, but I’d like to have one of my profiles brought in if you don’t mind. I’ve stood back and let your people run the show because it’s your county, your town, but this is definitely something that needs to be sorted out with my people, too.”

The stroking again. “Have them flown in tomorrow morning and we’ll let them speak in, but I can’t allow them to take over.”

“Thank you, sir.” Dean Winchester was not used to being so polite, and especially not to a buffoon such as Sheriff Singer. He was not in any position to step on toes, though, and he minded his spot to ensure he could keep things from being more difficult for him.

The forensic geeks took their time, swabbing random spilled substances from the floor, partially destroyed counters, walls, and even on the ceiling. For a long time during their investigating, Dean leaned against a kitchen wall, watching that locked door with a raging curiosity. Eventually they moved into the kitchen and he waited for them to finally notice it. As if it were a beacon of hot, white light burning into his brain, it was all he could focus on, his eyes were transfixed on the doorknob and he pursed his lips.

They took fingerprints from the handle, swabbed the edges, and dilly-dallied around in Dean’s eyes. He was almost dying to see what was behind it at this point and moved forward, clasping the brass knob and shoving against it with a mighty thrust of his shoulder. The door didn’t budge. He grunted and tried again, shoulder slamming against hard wood. This time it caved a bit and with a third try it gave, the faceplate attached to the door itself splintered away from the edge and the door swung inwards with the detective still hanging onto the handle.  


End file.
